Are runners a problem?

Terrigal Lagoon this morning

I have seen several articles online, from reputable sources, discussing the risks joggers/runners pose for spreading COVID-19.  And some Facebook posts being a little more alarmist about the same subject.

Running can be a messy business.  As I run, I am bathed in sweat, breathing hard, nose dripping and occasionally coughing and (yes, I know it's unsavoury) spitting.  One scientific analysis I saw demonstrated that it was probably unsafe to pass up to two metres behind a runner, if you want to avoid their germs, and I can believe that is true.

Terrigal Lagoon this morning

Running along suburban roads, as happens for the major part of my local runs, it is easy to stay clear of others using the same roads, but in Terrigal, where runners and walkers are plentiful and some of the paths are less than two metres across, I often feel I am exchanging germs with those around me regardless of how hard I try.  I find myself weaving through couples ambling along, trying to maximise my distance from them, but knowing I'm breaching the social-distancing guidelines.  They know it, and I know it, but it seems to me that we are all accepting the risks just by being there.

Wamberal Lagoon this evening

Given the bigger picture -- reducing the chances of community transmission -- I recognise that it is not socially responsible to be taking these risks, even if I'm willing to take my own chances with COVID-19.  It does worry me that I'm not being as good a citizen as I could be.  However, I guess there are differing levels of compliance and there are probably few people taking every precaution they could.  In self-justification, I see the rate of community spread in New South Wales falling and tell myself that if things start going south, I'll make a bigger effort to steer clear of the more congested exercising locations.

The surf off Wamberal beach with Terrigal in the background

I struggled on my regular 6km loop around Terrigal Lagoon this morning, with hips and lower back very stiff.  I'm starting to think that, for me at this time, bike riding is not compatible with running.  I'll see how quickly things improve as the week goes by and then make a judgment about whether I should continue riding once a week.  Hips and back were still stiff when Julie and I went for a very pleasant 5km evening walk up to Wamberal Lagoon and then back along the beach.

Easter Sunday

Lake Tuggerah at The Entrance on this morning's ride

We have all been told to stay at home this Easter, but if the beach carparks Julie and I passed on our 93km ride north along the coast to Catherine Hill Bay and back this morning were any guide, not a lot of attention was being paid.

Catherine Hill Bay this morning

Having said that, I'm sure the roads were quieter, and safer for cyclists, than most sunny Sundays, and particularly on the usual Easter Sunday.  We did see a few police cars on the road, but they didn't seem to be paying much attention to the people obviously congregating on some of the beach overlooks and the waves were busy with surfers waiting their turn.

The historic Catherine Hill Bay Pier

I guess if we see an uptick in the numbers of new reported community transmission COVID-19 cases in a couple of weeks time, we'll know whether there should have been more rigorous enforcement.  In the latest stats for New South Wales, it seems that the number of new cases is levelling off, that is, there is no longer a downwards trend.  It may be that the authorities are happy with that level of new cases, since they are manageable by the health system.  I do get the sense that restrictions are unlikely to be tightened further.

Boredom

Boredom is starting to set in.  Probably because I am running out of productive things to do at home.  I don't mind watching movies, but my Protestant upbringing won't let me do that all day.  And if I start reading books I just fall asleep.

Finishing my socially-distanced run in the Terrigal Beach carpark this morning

I have finished proof-reading the first three chapters of my daughter's PhD thesis which is almost ready for submission, and am contemplating reading them for a second time.  I might understand it better, and may have to look up fewer words in the dictionary this time.  The complexity of the analysis and subject matter -- using existential phenomenology to examine intersections of post-female embodiment and film form in contemporary science fiction cinema -- does make my brain hurt, but I'm pleased to be asked to read it through, and if all I pick up are a few typos, I'm fine with that.

The other project I have found, which is not going to occupy too much time, is planning for some shorter hikes in Australia on the assumption that travel restrictions get lifted in six months.  It will be too late to start out on our planned cycling circumnavigation of Australia by then, but there may be time for a hike taking a month or two.  The one in the frame at present, for which I did some initial planning back in 2014, is the Heysen Trail in South Australia.  The 1200 kilometre trail runs from the arid Flinders Ranges south to the coast and should take six to seven weeks.  We have all of the gear, and if I can have the planning done we will be ready to go at short notice.

Julie (r) and friend Lisa on their club socially-distanced run this morning
overlooking Woy Woy Bay from Spion Kop

After that, I'm thinking of offering to redo all of my running club's course maps to include risk assessments.  It will take a while, but it's been a task in the club's in-tray for some time and I have the time and skills to do it.

The club had a challenge today to be out training, appropriately social-distanced, in our club's uniform, and to run a standard race distance.  I chose to run the club's old Brooks Hill 10km time trial course, since abandoned for safety reasons (can't have racing runners transiting pedestrian crossings at speed or finishing in a crowded carpark).  It was a perfect morning for running, and I almost enjoyed some parts (which did not include the hills).

Will it take a generation?

Dramatic sunbeams at dawn this morning.

To be honest, although I am broadly interested in economics, I haven't really got my head around the medium- to long-term implications of the COVID-19 pandemic.  I worked for a macro-economic consultancy from the mid-1970s to the mid-1980s, primarily doing macroeconomic forecasting and the relationship between the rate of growth of money supply and the rate of growth of  price inflation was been drilled into my subconscious.

North Avoca cliffs at sunset.

But do such lessons apply now?  In the short-term, I think that although the governments are flooding the economies with cash, a lot of it is for the replacement of income, and most of it will be spent on staples or saved.  It seems unlikely that the money is going to be chasing holidays, electronics or property, thus bidding up prices.  However, once the pandemic has passed, there may be a real risk that government easy money policies designed to stimulate activity, in conjunction with pent-up demand and product scarcity (caused by the closure of so many producing businesses and disrupted supply lines) will lead to price inflation.

Added to this, all governments will have a much larger debt burden to service.  I suspect, for poorer countries, this could become catastrophic.  Globally, it's not hard to see it taking a decade to only partially recover from this mess.  And, because many governments have still not paid down the debts incurred during, and recovering from, the global financial crisis of more than a decade ago, most are in a poor position to respond to future economic shots.  In Australia's case, it will be very hard to snap back, as they say they will, socially progressive changes such as free childcare and a living wage for the unemployed.  I'm starting to think it will take a generation to truly recover from this.

Forresters Beach and Crackneck at sunset

Speaking of recovery, I'm starting to think it will take a generation before I become a runner again.  Another slow 9.6km plod this morning, with lower back and hip pain and stiffness giving me a lot of grief.  I'm taking a little comfort from past recoveries during which lower back problems have typically been a feature, and then all of a sudden, often within a couple of days, the problems disappear and I immediately feel better.  I suspect it has to do with building the muscle strength needed to maintain good, and therefore efficient, running form.  That's my layman's theory, anyway.

Later, on a very grey and drizzly day, Julie I walked a few kilometres by the ocean after an eerily quiet Good Friday for what is typically a packed vacation destination.

Common Sense vs Simple Rules

McMasters Beach

The authorities have tried, in their fight to slow the spread of COVID-19, to set down unambiguous rules about what we can and cannot do, and the police have been asked to enforce them.  Yet, every day the media publicises instances of the rules being enforced, seemingly nonsensically, such as the learner driver being fined in Melbourne.

Little Beach Track

I accept that many of these incidents do not make sense, and perhaps the rules could have been applied using more common sense, but I also accept that the rules need to be kept simple and enforced.  Although they will prevent some riskless activities, such as taking a child living in the same home for a driving lesson, it would require a very long list of permissible and prohibited activities to cover all of the possibilities and that would be a nightmare to administer and publicise.

Little Beach

After doing our respective training runs this morning -- Julie's repeats up a notorious local hill, and my 6km plod around Terrigal Lagoon -- we went for a walk in nearby Bouddi National Park.  Despite being "nearby" we did drive a few kilometres to Copacabana to be nearer the trails.  Strictly speaking, you could argue that we had already exercised and didn't need to go for a walk.  You could also argue that if we did want to go for a walk, we could have walked from home.  In fact, our original plan was to drive 40 minutes north to Munmorah Conservation Area and go for a walk there, but last night we decided that it would be easier to justify a shorter local drive, if indeed, we were questioned.

Looking towards Copacabana

Looking towards Third Point

As it happened, nobody queried why we were driving the ten minutes to Copacabana, although we did have a police helicopter circling over us at one point on our walk and also had to wilfully ignore a "Trail Closed" sign at another point.

It was a beautiful and peaceful 9km walk, if a little wet underfoot in places, and we enjoyed some spectacular clifftop views and coastal scenery, along with some lovely bush trails.  We raised a sweat on some of the climbs, so could definitely claim to be exercising, but it would be less easy to defend our drink stop perched on a remote rock overlooking a slightly ruffled vast expanse of Pacific Ocean.

Keeping the faith

Another beautiful Terrigal dawn.

Lots of information is coming from the authorities in Australia indicating the imposed COVID-19 pandemic restrictions are paying off.  We can all read the charts, and certainly the number of new infections and deaths has significantly declined.  This information encourages everybody to believe that the authorities do know what they are doing and to have faith in their judgments of what will yield the desired results in the future.  If infections and deaths seemed out of control, anxiety and stress would grow and we would all be second-guessing the authorities' tactics.

I'm having a bit of a struggle keeping the faith with my training plan and running capabilities as I try to get fit again.  I ran my furthest for three weeks this morning, 9.7km, but none of it was enjoyable or satisfying.  Nothing seems to be working as it should.  My back, hips and quads hurt.  I felt heavy and uncoordinated, and very deflated to watch people who appeared to be running very slowly passing by and leaving me behind.  What has happened to me?  Perhaps a running-abused 69-year-old body should have more rest and lower ambitions?  Every run seems to produce new niggles and little progress.

My faith that increasing training mileage, if I can get over the injuries, will eventually lead to satisfying fitness is being tested more than ever.  My only remaining tactic to ward off total despair, is to tell myself that I was reasonably fit just 12 months ago, having a reasonably good race in the 50km Alpine Ascent in the Snowy Mountains.  I believe that potential is defined by your best performances, and it's hard to believe that my capability has declined more than a percent or two in one year.  I just have to have faith in what has worked in the past and trust that it will eventually deliver the results I crave.

Maximising collective happiness

Muted sunrise backdropping Terrigal Haven this morning

After a morning 6km plod in light drizzle, during which my lower back gave me a lot of grief, I journeyed down to north Sydney for my weekly visit to see my son.  He is nearing the end of six months of chemotherapy, which is likely to be extended, but it is heartening to see his optimism and his condition seemingly stabilise.

Crackneck through this morning's drizzle

As usual, we started out with a walk in his neighbourhood, covering 6.5km as we discussed all manner of things.  One subject covered, which intrigues me as an economist, is what cost-benefit analyses are being done by governments as they impose restrictions during the pandemic.  I studied these issues many years ago, and have forgotten more than I remember, but I do know it is underpinned by seeking to maximise our collective happiness/utility.  There are trade-offs.  For example, how many jobs must be sacrificed to justify the saving of one life. Or, how many suicides or domestic violence incidents related to social-distancing must be tolerated to justify saving one life.  It's not hard to come up with plenty of such conundrums.

Pleasant trail through Willoughby during this morning's walk

In the current pandemic, the government is under enormous pressure to save lives.  The television imagery of overflowing hospitals and morgues rightly causes great consternation and empathy amongst the population.  However, the costs to the collective happiness of suicides, domestic violence, loss of education, etc., are less visible and evocative.

My guess is that the balance is weighted towards saving the lives and the hard-nosed calculations about trade-offs are not being made (though Trump has alluded to them).  But that's completely understandable and I'm not being critical.  It's very hard to argue that we should watch people die.  There'll be plenty of data for future PhD's in all of this.